El Toreador
by erenia0324
Summary: Mike Schmidt was a broke college student with student loans on his back. He lived in a crappy apartment, and his ass of a landlord raised his rent. Seeing an opportunity to both pay his rent on time, and satisfy his own curiosity about the place, he took a job at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. The poor fool. One-shot! Make sure to review!


_El Toreador_

"_Toreador, En garde!" -Henri Meilhac_

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><p>Mike Schmidt was your average college student. Hefting around student loans, and jobless thanks to the Great Recession. He was fairly non-descript, short brown hair, a mild tan, and blue eyes. His casual attire consisted of a simple black T-shirt, jeans, and Converse sneakers. He lived in a shithole of an apartment, and could barely scrounge together the money needed, even with welfare.<p>

But a problem had arisen. His asshole of a landlord had increased his rent for no damn reason and Mike was a week away from being evicted. He didn't quite fancy the prospect of having to live out on the streets, and so decided to get a night shift at a little restaurant his parents had taken him to when he was a kid.

Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

He had always liked that place. Even back in '87, when Foxy the Pirate bit into that kid's head right next to him, Mike wasn't afraid in the least.

It fascinated him.

The animatronics there were firmly in the Uncanny Valley, but Mike never saw them as disturbing in any way. He wanted to know more about their history, and what caused Foxy to attack that kid. That and, the money, even if it was a paltry sum, wouldn't hurt either.

Mike walked up to the glass door that would lead inside the restaurant, and swung it open. The din of dozens of children laughing blasted his ears, making him wince slightly in pain. The interior was somewhat dingy, the lights would flicker occasionally, and the whole place smelled like two day old pizza. Just like he remembered.

The animatronics, Bonnie the Rabbit, Chica the Chicken, and the main star himself, Freddy Fazbear, were all on the stage, Bonnie with his orange bass guitar, Chica with her pink cupcake with two large eyes, and Freddy wielding a microphone.

Bonnie was coated in lavender cloth that went over his outer frame, with a red bow tie attached to it's neck. The robotic rabbit also possessed two long articulated ears, that moved with the music they were making. His eyes were a maroon color, and were deep within the sockets of the outer frame. He moved in a stiff, jerky manner, something that was shared by all of the other animatronics. There was a set of blocky teeth in his mouth, again shared by all the other animatronics, including Chica.

Chica had bright, yellow cloth covering her body, with four tufts on the top of her square head. Her beak was orange, and her eyes purple. She was wearing a white bib, with the words **LET'S EAT! **emblazoned across it in yellow bubble letters, outlined in purple, with tri-colored triangles in a pattern of three decorating the bib. There was what appeared to be small stylized pizza slices on the bib as well.

And the restaurant's namesake, Freddy, had brown cloth covering his outer frame. He wore a tiny black top hat on his head, and a matching bow tie. Like Bonnie, he had articulated ears. His eyes were a light blue color, and he had thick eyebrows above. His snout had three black dots on both sides, resembling freckles. He was the singer of the band, and that was clearly evident given the microphone in his right paw.

Mike observed the singing animatronics for a few moments, before walking away to the manager's office. He was here to take the night guard position, and even though it didn't seem like a children's restaurant really needed a guard, Mike wasn't complaining. He walked through the door, never noticing Freddy staring intently at him.

The manager was a balding, middle-aged man, and he wore a name tag saying 'David'. He seemed nervous for some odd reason, and nearly leaped out of his seat when Mike walked in. He took a calming breath, and asked in a slightly fearful tone.

"Is t-there anything you need sir?"

Mike raised an eyebrow at David, and responded.

"Yes, I'm here for the night guard position. I called ahead yesterday."

David seemed pleased at that, and sunk into his chair, a sigh of relief coming from him.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Schmidt was it?"

Mike nodded once, eyebrow lowering.

David steepled his fingers on his desk, and looked at Mike seriously.

"It's good that you're here. Is it possible for you start work tonight?"

Mike raised his eyebrow again.

"Yes sir."

A smile growing on his face, David reached out to shake Mike's hand. Mike, wanting to make a good first impression, took hold, and gripped firmly. The two shook hands, and after a few minutes, Mike was taught the basics of his job.

Due to large-scale budget cuts, there was a power limit in place. Using the cameras would use some of the allotted power, as would closing the hydraulic doors, or turning on the lights on either side of his new office. Mike would have asked why he needed those doors and lights, but decided to keep his mouth shut. He needed the money, and he would be able to satiate his own curiosity about this place.

He was instructed to never leave his post, as the animatronics were on a 'free-roam' mode during the night. Mike was told that, in the event he encountered an animatronic, he should attempt to direct them back to the stage.

Mike sat down in his squeaky office chair, and put the laptop used to activate the cameras on his lap.

This would be his first night here, his shift starting in less than an hour. All the kids had gone home, and he was now alone here. It was ten o' clock. When it hit eleven, his work would begin.

Mike never knew the consequences of taking this job. The horrors he would face. The terror of being hunted down. Nor the rush of adrenaline as a murderous Foxy sprinted down the hall, plodding foot-steps punctuated by metallic thuds. Not even the pure agony he would feel, when he was forced into a Freddy Fazbear costume, feeling his eyes forced upward into the eyes of the costume.

Mike Schmidt would never be heard from again. A missing-persons report would be filed by the proprietors of the restaurant, but the police would find no trace of his body. And another night guard would be hired, and would disappear as well. All Mike ever did, was add on to a long list.

Such a shame.


End file.
